


Coins on the Ground

by causeways



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-27
Updated: 2007-06-27
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:57:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeways/pseuds/causeways
Summary: It's the last summer before Sam leaves for Stanford.





	Coins on the Ground

Sam starts small. A book of matches. A bar napkin with a girl's number on it: _Shelley 434-8831_. A piece of paper with notes about poltergeists scribbled on it. Little things, throw-away things. Nothing that'll be missed.

He goes after the bigger things later. He slips a Blue Öyster Cult tape into his shorts pocket in the middle of July in South Carolina, where the air is so thick and still he can feel his body moving through it. On the first day of August he slides a monkey wrench into his duffel bag, beneath the dirty socks at the bottom. A couple weeks later, it's the used shells from one of the shotguns, cracks echoing cleanly through the night air; Sam scoops them into his pocket off of the ground.

The last week of August Sam takes the McDonald's box Dean's apple turnover came in and wraps it in plastic, stuffs it in the bottom of his duffel bag with the socks. It's ridiculous. He doesn't care. He takes the broken pair of aviators out of the Impala's glove compartment, along with the fake ID for David Hasselhoff, age twenty-three. He waits until the twenty-eighth of August to take Dean's faded Back in Black t-shirt; that loss won't go unnoticed. The t-shirt has been too small for Dean since he was fifteen, but he still wears it, holes under the arms. Sam doesn't stand a chance in hell of fitting into it. He's not planning on trying to, anyway.

On the morning of August twenty-ninth, Sam packs methodically: shoes at the bottom, then hoodies, t-shirts, shorts, boxers shoved in around the sides, the way he's always packed. It's the end of August and the hotel A.C. is on the fritz, Sam's t-shirt clinging to his back.

At eight o'clock at night, Sam fights with his dad. Sam imagines he's been able to feel it coming all day, electricity building beneath his skin. Dean drives him to the Greyhound station, after, and presses an envelope thick with hustled twenties into his hand, and Sam doesn't fight him over it. He tucks it into his pocket and takes it with him, along with the rest.


End file.
